Ushguli: the forgotten villages

The evening before I met with two other tourists and we decided to book a trip to Ushguli, a remote community of four villages 46 kilometres from Mestia. The weather, cold but clear, allowed it, since during the most snowy periods of the year, Ushguli is totally cut from civilisation. After some difficulties (the driver didn't show up - he simply decided he wasn't going) we managed to find another, although for a higher price. The guy was of little words and he delighted us with a selection of rather terrible music. Russian hip-hop, Azeri house and a Madonna greatest hits. But the landscape around us was captivating, so we survived.

 

The road was indeed impervious - at times it's conditions were terrible, I'm not surprised a bit of snow is enough to make the villages impossible to reach. We had to hold fast, as the bumps made us jump up and down in the car. Often we had to go over streams that crossed the road, or avoid fallen rocks. Other time we met peculiar characters.

After around two hours of this, we finally reached the first village. In front of us appeared a view that was difficult to frame in time. If it wasn't for the occasional car, some makeshift metal repairs, the presence of power lines or the ever-present Soviet touch, this would be really timeless. Of course, koshki towers dominate the view here as well.

In these four villages a total of 70 families live, for a total of 200 people.

 

As in Mestia, cattle freely roams the road. At one point in front of us there was an entire farm, striding in the muddy and icy streets. A cow, two swines, a gaggle of geese (finally I can use this!), a donkey and a dog. It doesn't get more rural than this, so we felt our mission was almost complete and since we were cold and hungry, we tried to find something to eat. Not being hunter-gatherers or farmers ourselves, we asked a lady who was near a sign advertising a market and food. Contrarily to what Georgians always are , but much like many other mountain people I know, she was quite brusque and not very friendly. She said she had only soups, probably hoping we would give up, but a hot soup was exactly what we needed in such a cold environment, so we agreed to the soups and she reluctantly showed us in the adjacent restaurant. The soup was tasty, warm and completely smile-free. We quickly finished eating and headed back to the car before it got dark, for another two hours of awful music and breath-taking landscapes.

Mestia

Mestia, a small town in the Svaneti historical region of Georgia, has a population of roughly 2600, mainly Svans, a cultural and linguistic subgroup of the Georgians. Chief characteristic, as in all others Svanetian villages are the koshki (კოშკო), traditional defensive stone towers dotting the hills among houses. The Svans are a proud people, inhabiting one of the most inaccessible areas of Georgia and in fact, Svaneti was never conquered by invading forces. Of the various kartvelian languages, Svan (which is not usually written) is the most distant from Georgian.

 

In more than one way, Mestia reminds me of some Italian mountains comuni (municipalities). The architecture is typical of any mountainous and cold regions and having been built on hilly terrain, there are many some sudden drops over streams.

What was mostly surprising, however, is the Mestia Historical-Ethnographic Museum. A very modern-looking building, it one of the best of Georgia. It showcases an impressive number of items, ranging from coins to everyday tools, from weapons to furniture and it has an incredible section on books and scrolls, all written in Nuskhuri, a script that, along with Asomtavruli, was mainly used for religious text and iconography. Nuskhuri first appeared in the IX Century and eventually replaced Asomtavruli.

  

As for the night, I'm staying at the Svan-Ski guesthouse, right in the middle of the town. Marina and her husband, who both speak good English, set up a cozy and welcoming place. The rooms are warm, the tea free, the shower amazing. I'll definitely spend two very good days here.

From Tbilisi to Mestia by plane.

Tuesday arrived and with it my third goodbye to Tbilisi. This time, though, it didn't coincide with a goodbye to Georgia. After two times fruitlessly trying to go to Svaneti, but put down by the 9-10 hours of bus needed, I found a quick and cheap way. For 60 Lari (a bit more than 20 €) you can fly to Mestia from Tbilisi on a Let L-410 Turbolet, a small turbine-propelled short-range airplane. I remember seeing this also last time, but I found no feedback online and some websites even disagreed on whether the fleet was operating or not. So I simply wrote them from Italy, they confirmed they were operating, and I booked a one-way flight.

 

The morning of the flight I reached the rendez-vous point, near the Rustaveli Metro station. A minivan drove us to Natakhtari, a village out of Tbilisi where there is a small civilian airfield, and after some check about the weather in the Svaneti check-in started. Of course, the presence of the oscilloscope in my backpack didn't pass unnoticed and a few alarmed men asked me what it was. I showed it, handed over the Russian manual, but they were puzzled, mostly because they probably didn't see such a device in their whole life. They asked me what it was for, and I realised it's not easy to quickly explain what an oscilloscope does, especially to a worried person with a better grasp of Russian than English. Finally, another man came, checked it out and gave his blessing. He probably eats Soviet oscilloscopes for breakfast.

 

Best thing in this is that, during the whole oscilloscope fuss, one of my bags didn't go through the scanner. Good job, tovarisch.

 

After all else was done, and the good weather was confirmed, we could board the craft.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pilot looked (and spoke) Russian, and had a rather friendly face and attitude. He explained us the usual drill in English and Russian, and then we where ready to take off. I never flew in such a small plane before, especially never in a turbine-propelled one. I was rightly excited, and had my camera ready.

 

 

 

 

 

To be honest, the first part was nice but nothing special. The weather was cloudy, so everything appeared grey, and when proper clouds showed up, they were cool to look at, but not for more than 10 minutes. Plus, I though I got the short end of the stick, as I sat on the left side, and going westbound the best landscape appeared to be visible from the right seats.

Then we got close to the mountainous area and the magic began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After almost 30 minutes of such incredible landscape, we finally reached Mestia. It's characteristic defensive towers, dating back to IX Century and called koshki, were clearly visible from above.

 

 

 

One thing I didn't know of such small aircraft is that because they are relatively slow (slower than jets) are much more manoeuvrable and, as such, don't need a long landing approach. This thing almost dived once we were in range of the landing strip, going from a discrete altitude to the ground in a very little time. Got surely surprised!

By the way, you cannot possibly understand how cute the Queen Tamar airport is. It's the size of a large bar and brand new. A stark contrast with the rural surroundings.

 

 

 

Anyway, here's another step of the trip. The sun was shining, the temperature very pleasant yet cold (around 4/5° only). It was time to reach the guesthouse, put my things down and explore Mestia with the remaining hours of sunlight.

Cultural visits

For my birthday, Gaga made me a wonderful gift: a trip to three historically important places in Georgia: Uplistsikhe, The Jvari Monastery and Mtskheta. The trip included a short stop in Gori, home of that Ioseb Besarionis dze Jughashvili that would be known to history as Stalin. I'm not really interested in seeing his desk, his pajama and his socks, so I decided to skip the museum, but despite everything, he was a historic figure and since the town was on the path anyway, we stopped. Here, his house, where he was born in 1878, is methodically preserved.

Stalin's wagon was armour plated and it was his principal mean of transportation. Reportedly, he was afraid of flying (like all prior dictators he enjoyed a certain level of paranoia), giving up only for the 1943 conference of Tehran.

After Gori, we headed to the cave city of Uplistsikhe, a complex of houses and temples dating back to the early Iron Age, build in sandrock. Situated on the left bank of the Mtkvari (the river that also flows into Tbilisi), it became and important cultural and religious center during the kingdom of Kartli, back then called Iberia, where pagan and Christian beliefs briefly coexisted. Its strategic position, with the rivers to one side and mountains to the other, allowed it to resist several attacks, ultimately falling only to the raids of the Mongols, during the XIV Century.

  

The city is divided in several areas, with spaces that once hosted houses, shops, temples and even secret tunnels. Most of these are now destroyed, also for the relative softness of sandrock, but you can easily see how extensive they must have been. We finished the tour and we were all hungry (there was also a Filipino couple), so Gaga drove us to a fantastic restaurant on the side of the road. You already known how I love Georgian food. This, a tipical Imeretian restaurant, was simply outstanding. Stuff started to arrive and it never ended. By the time we finished, we were stuffed like squirrel cheeks after a raid in a nut shop.

After this difficult ordeal, we headed to the Jvari Monastery ("Monastery of the Cross" in Georgian), so called because, yes, you guessed right, they claim it contains a cross made with the wood of the True Cross, the one used to crucify Jesus. This makes pair with Armenian claim they have Longinus' lance in Etchmiadzin :) I love you all!

This aside, the monastery is a beautiful sight, overlooking the town of Mtskheta (the former capital of Georgia during the Kingdom of Iberia) at the confluence of two rivers, the Mtkvari and the Aragvi. It's dated to the VI Century, on the site of a previous pagan temple, where legends say, Saint Nino, who brought Christianity to Georgia, erected a the aforementioned cross.

Darkness was falling fast, so we headed to the final part of our trip, the town of Mtskheta. Founded in the V Century b.C. it's one of the oldest towns in Georgia and also the place where Christianity was declared state religion (of the Kingdom of Iberia) in 337 a.D. Currently it enjoys the title of "Holy City" in Georgia. Unfortunately it was already pretty dark, so I couldn't take good pictures.

The Svetitskhoveli Cathedral ("Church of the living pillar") is known to be the burial site of Jesus' mantle, a claim shared with Trier (Germany), Argentuil (France) and other places in Russia and Ukraine. LOL. The inside of the church is beautiful, with many interesting frescoes, some of which quite unusual, like this one above, featuring scenes from the Apocalypse. When we visited there was a wedding, which seems to be one of the favourite activities in Georgia: drinking, eating and getting married. The latter allowed the former two, so I understand why. :)